


Feisty

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A scene from another fic, Explicit Language, F/M, First Meetings, Modern Girl in Thedas, Rylen POV, The Story Behind the Punch, modern girls in Thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 22:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13890552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: When two women fall out of a rift basically onto their laps, Rylen and his Commander, Cullen, are more than a little confused about where they came from - and what to do with them.





	Feisty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gugle1980](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gugle1980/gifts).



> For our lovely reader gugle1980 (thank you for the ko-fi!).
> 
> Canon for a different take on Abby and Rylen meeting, which is no longer on ao3.

“Wait – _wait_ – we’re not fucking demons!”

 

“Then what are you?”

 

“ _Not_ demons! Eliana – some help would be fucking great!”

 

The not-demon – just a woman? – in front of them turns back to the other one, who murmurs something indistinct. She’s lying on the snow, and hasn’t pushed herself up to sit the way the first woman has.

 

“You – you’re injured?” Cullen says from beside him, and Rylen notices what the Commander must have seen – blood on the snow, the way she’s holding her side.

 

“Dying,” the woman corrects him, grimacing in pain.

 

“She isn’t _dying_ ,” the first woman rolls her eyes and then glares at the Commander, “not if someone _helps_ her.”

 

“Feisty like a demon, eh lass?” Rylen raises an eyebrow before he can stop himself, taking in the fierce and determined way her jaw is set.

 

She hasn’t flinched at the sight of them, and she almost has her body positioned in front of the other woman, as if she’s shielding her, protecting her from harm. It’s intriguing to him, considering where they are, and where they just came out of – the rift is twisting and sparking above them still, and he knows that demons will be pouring out of it again at any moment.

 

_Is this ever going to stop?_

 

_And now this – two women – they’re dressed oddly, but –_

 

_They don’t look like any demons or abominations I’ve ever seen._

 

“What do we do, Ser?” he asks, glancing sidelong at the Commander as he relaxes his sword. He won’t hurt two defenseless women, not without cause.

 

Before Cullen can answer him, the rift pops and makes a bubbling noise, and Rylen can tell –

 

“Demons!” Cullen bellows, raising his sword once more. “Men, at the ready!”

 

The forces around them, behind them, all get ready, and for a brief moment Rylen sees fear pass across the dark eyes of the woman in front of him. But he and the Commander hurry forward, and Rylen grabs the uninjured, feisty woman by her arm and helps lift her out of the snow.

 

“Come on, lass,” he tells her, and his large hand easily encloses her upper arm, even through the thick black leather of the short coat she’s wearing.

 

She’s tiny once she stands, not even coming close to his shoulder – in fact she’s barely at the top of his bicep. She stumbles a bit in the snow as he hurries her toward a boulder, and he notices she’s partially stumbling because her shoes –

 

_Are those spikes on her feet?_

 

Her fluffy dark hair sways and brushes her collar bone as she runs behind him, blowing in her face and covering the eyes that are looking around and taking everything in. He gets her behind the boulder and finally releases her, glaring at her pointedly, hoping she realizes she needs to stay there.

 

For a moment they lock gazes – her deep, chocolate depths boring into his aqua eyes with a mixture of emotions – determination, apprehension, and – recognition?

 

But then she looks away from him to where Cullen is almost throwing the other woman behind the boulder. She gives Rylen not another glance or thought it seems as she scoots toward her injured companion.

 

“Stay here – both of you ,” Cullen commands them, glowering. “We will question you two later.”

 

Rylen gives them one last glance, still taking in the strong-willed way the chocolate-eyed woman’s face is set.

 

But then he turns and follows the Commander – more demons are pouring out of the rift.

 

Still – demons, after all these days, seemingly never ending. When was the last time they slept? The last time they actually ate? He’s lucky he has some lyrium vials on his belt to help him get through – but it’s been nonstop since the Conclave blew to shit a few days before.

 

He’s not quite certain what to make of it, and he’s a man who likes directness, honesty – simple solutions and answers.

 

And now two women fall out of a rift basically on top of him in the middle of this madness –

 

It’s enough to make him feel a bit batty.

 

When he lifts his sword it feels heavier, his movements more sluggish than normal. He’s past the point of exhaustion, in that range where he’s so tired he feels almost inhuman, reacting instinctively and like he’s not actively in control of himself. But he pushes on, determined to defend, to push back the demons, even if he can’t stop them from appearing from the rift.

 

_If only there was a way to make the rift close, to stop the demons coming out –_

 

He thinks of apprehension in chocolate brown eyes, and he swings his sword harder.

 

Why is it he feels like protecting the wee lass?

 

Something about the look in her eyes – he wants to make certain she doesn’t have anything to be afraid of, even with Thedas falling apart and a hole in the sky.

 

It’s like she’s given him a face to focus on – he’s fighting to save Thedas, but now he can picture it. Dark chocolate eyes, wide and full of dread – he wants to see them full of joy, safe and protected instead.

 

It has to be the exhaustion that his mind is wandering that way, coupled with the fact that none of this makes any sense.

 

Where did she – they – come from?

 

Before he can distract himself with more thoughts of where she came from, he hears shouts behind him, and when he can glance back he sees the Seeker – and the two prisoners. The elf and the tall Templar run forward and both thrust their palms out and the rift begins to shift, it begins to change and then, finally – it closes.

 

_Well – now we know how to close the blasted things._

 

Rylen turns back to look at the boulder while the Commander talks to the Seeker and the prisoners, and he notices the feisty woman’s head peeking up from behind the rock, taking in the scene.

 

“Come along – let’s go see how those two got here,” Cullen grits out as he brushes past Rylen suddenly.

 

“Commander – surely you don’t think they’re demons -” Rylen says.

 

“No – but how in Voids did they get here?” Cullen glances at him sideways and both men shrug. “You!”

 

The women both jump slightly, and for a moment they all just stare at one another. The feisty woman is kneeling, pressing a black cloth to the injuries of the other. She positively glares up at both of them, any apprehension she’s feeling masked by the glower on her face. She glances between he and the Commander and then looks down at the injured woman.

 

“Can we get some help now, please?” she snaps. “She’s still bleeding.”

 

“Who are you?” Cullen asks.

 

“Really?” she asks, sounding exasperated. “Can we just – get her some help first and then you can ask?”

 

She has a fair point, and Rylen looks at the Commander out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Where did you come from? We’ve been fighting demons pouring out of that rift, and suddenly you two show up,” Cullen demands. “How do we know you’re not both -”

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake we are _not_ demons!” the woman almost yells. “Do you not know two women when you see them, moron?”

 

Rylen raises an eyebrow – he’s not entirely certain he understood the word – but he definitely understood the tone of her voice. The look on Cullen’s face makes him fight a smirk.

 

 _Feisty like a demon is right_.

 

“Listen -” Cullen begins to say, but the injured woman groans and writhes.

 

“Hey I’m - still kind of bleeding out here -”

 

Her companion turns back to her, real fear finally evident on her face. “Fuck,” she mutters.

 

_Her friend – her sister, maybe?_

 

_The lass looks mighty worried._

 

Cullen turns to him, ready to give orders, but they both still as they feel it.

 

 _Magic – lyrium – and it’s coming from_ –

 

Instinctively they both draw their swords again, staring down at the sage green light that’s emanating from the hands of the feisty woman onto the wound in her companion’s side.

 

Her eyes are wide, shocked – and it’s obvious the magic emanating from her hands is wild, untamed and barely controlled.

 

“Hey look, you didn’t set me on fire,” the injured woman gives a weak giggle.

 

“Thank god for that,” the feisty woman agrees, smiling slightly.

 

But her magic is still in the air, they can both still feel it – and so they do what they’ve been trained to do, both casting the strongest Silences they can manage.

 

Her reaction is immediate – she looks up at them, wide-eyed, one hand moving to her chest as if she’s struggling to breathe. Her companion slumps over, finally unconscious, and as Cullen and Rylen move forward the feisty mage throws her arms out to block them approaching.

 

“Don’t – fucking – touch – her -” she grits out, finally able to speak again as she tries to pull the other woman into her arms. “Get – get away -”

 

“Now – mage – with us -” Cullen barks at her, and she flinches slightly and glares at him.

 

“No – leave her alone – she’s still injured -”

 

“Here, lass – it’s all right -” Rylen tries to assure her as he sheathes his sword but she turns her glower onto him.

 

“Rylen – secure her, and I’ll -”

 

“Don’t you fucking dare -”

 

“ – _mage_ -”

 

“Get the fuck away!”

 

Rylen steps forward with Cullen and they both stoop, trying to separate the women. But when he tries to pull her away from her injured companion she begins to struggle and swears at him.

 

Before he can block or grab her, she pulls her arm back and lets loose – her fist makes contact with his chin – _hard_ – and he staggers back from his crouched position and falls on his ass in the snow.

 

“Eh – lass -”

 

“Did you just hit my Lieutenant?” Cullen bellows.

 

Rylen shakes his head, flexing his chin – which _hurts_ – and stares at the tiny lass in front of him as he rubs where she hit him.

 

_Feisty isn’t a strong enough word for what she is._

 

And yet he smirks despite himself, admiring the way she’s now giving the Commander a fearless tongue-lashing as she struggles to keep her hold on her companion.

 

“Rylen – are you just going to sit in the snow all day and watch, man?” Cullen grits out as he continues to try to separate the women.

 

“You’re doing fine yourself, Commander – unless you can’t take on a wee lass on your lonesome -”

 

“ – Lieutenant -”

 

“Aye, I’m on it,” Rylen pushes himself back to his feet, trying to ignore the dull ache in his jaw. He stoops behind her and wraps his arms around her waist – they could almost wrap twice, she’s so tiny – and he lifts her bodily from the ground.

 

She shrieks indignantly, kicking with her feet as she calls him every horrible name he knows– and a few he doesn’t. The sharp spikes on the bottom of her shoes almost catch Cullen on the shoulder and he glares at her before he carefully lifts the injured woman into his arms.

 

Rylen begins walking, holding the wriggling and kicking woman off the ground, keeping the Silence cast as he carries her toward the village.

 

She smells like spicy vanilla, musk, a woody smoky scent that he can't place, and he's fairly certain there's a hint of whiskey clinging to her as well. Her clothes are odd - her jacket is leather, but cut differently than any he's seen, with metal fastenings he isn't certain he'd be able to figure out. Her pants are grey, and fitted - but they're thick cloth and not leather. She has a bag slung over her shoulder, black leather with a silver chain. Necklaces, bracelets, rings - all silver in color, all delicately layered even though there's several of them. And one ring, that has a glimmering stone on it that looks like a massive diamond.

 

He takes it all in as she continues to writhe and swear in his arms, trying to determine anything about her. Soon though he realizes she’s struggling too much, and he sets her on her feet for a moment before he spins her and throws her over his shoulder instead.

 

“You fucking – fuck – asshole son of a bitch put me down – we’re not hurting anyone – fucking Christ -”

 

“Lass, you already hurt my chin do you have to wound my ears and my pride as well?” he laughs.

 

“Smug fucking Templar shit – I swear to god that chin isn’t the only thing I’ll hurt if you don’t put me down right now!”

 

“So you know what Templars are, lass? But you didn’t seem to know you were a mage?”

 

At this she falls silent, but he can still feel her occasionally hitting his armored back with her fists.

 

As they walk back toward Haven, she grumbles under her breath, still calling him names and making guesses at the status of his mother and his legitimacy, and he has to stop himself from laughing.

 

“Best if we separate them,” Cullen says as they pass through the gates of Haven, and Rylen nods at him and points toward the Chantry, indicating where he'll take her.

 

“Wait – no – Eliana – you fuck, let me go Templar bastard – don’t take her -”

 

“Eh, lass – that’s enough now, she’ll be fine -”

 

“Fuck you!”

 

A healer runs along beside him, checking to see if he has any injuries, and he asks them to accompany him to inspect the woman he’s carrying. When they reach the Chantry he sets her down on a bench but as soon as he releases her she tries to slap and kick him and he has to restrain her again.

 

“Behave lass – I don’t make a habit of hitting women -”

 

“ – just hurting them with your fucking Silence -”

 

“You’re a mage -”

 

“ _Templar_ -”

 

“Aye,” he answers simply, holding her gaze.

 

The healer looks her over while he makes certain she doesn’t run, and suddenly they sigh. “You look like you broke a finger – your knuckle is swollen – let me heal that, for you.”

 

As the healer sets to work on the woman’s hand she looks up and locks eyes with Rylen – and smirks at him.

 

_Fuck._

 

It’s the prettiest sight he’s seen, the way her curved pink lips part slightly, her chocolate eyes gleaming as she peers up at him. She almost looks like she’s taunting him, goading him.

 

_She hit you, and she’s a mage –_

 

_But she’s beautiful, and doesn’t seem scared – not even of me, and she has every reason to be._

 

_She hit me to defend her companion – and now she’s smirking at me like she’d do it again, like she's proud of it._

 

_Aye, she’s feisty all right._

 

_My kind of lass._

**Author's Note:**

> Abigail punches Rylen.  
> Rylen's reaction:
> 
>  


End file.
